


you make me feel so (mm-mhm)

by bluetint



Category: GOT7
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Face-Fucking, Multi, OT7, Rule 63, Vaginal Fingering, because they're all sleeping together, of the soft kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:22:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29502660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetint/pseuds/bluetint
Summary: After their Waiting Room live, Jaebeom and Jackson steal away for some well-deserved fun.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Jackson Wang
Comments: 7
Kudos: 22





	you make me feel so (mm-mhm)

**Author's Note:**

> the summary is shit and so is this fic because i wrote this while waiting for my brain to come online after getting a solid amount of sleep
> 
> would also like to mention that [this](https://twitter.com/anendearinglump/status/1361865762986729475?s=20) inspired this dumpster trashfire of a fic

Jaebeom’s thirsty.

The waiting room live, as are all things which feature the seven of them in one place, was chaotic to say the least. Operating on bare minimum sleep, energy tonics and caffeine, Jaebeom had spent the majority of it by letting the others take the lead, talking where she was asked, getting dutifully roasted by the hyperactive hyenas and laughing herself silly and loose, ribs aching, eyes damp from the tears and throat begging to be rehydrated.

But that’s not what she’s thirsty for.

Jackson who's always looked good. Jackson who's always loud in ways Jaebeom never thought a person could be loud, commanding attention even with his intense silences.

Jackson who likes being led as much as he likes leading.

It's that very Jackson observing her with an amused quirk to his lips, Jaebeom's fingers looped into the waistband of his jeans, freshly painted nails catching the light.

"Noona." That's all he says. Nothing more, nothing less. Yet it says everything. 

_ What's up noona, care to tell me why you texted me asking to meet you in this dressing room, which albeit is out of the way of others and will guarantee us some semblance of privacy, especially after you told the staff not to disturb you as you were about to take your thirty minute nap before leaving for our next schedule? _

Jaebeom licks her lips. She wonders how she looks right now. Hair beat into submission by hairspray and heat, a stray pimple and some blemishes on her cheeks — visible now that the makeup had been scraped away. Circles under her eyes, lending a haunted look to her face. She wonders if she looks appealing enough for this.

Jackson as he's always had a direct line to her thoughts — something that's frustrated and relieved her over the years, being perceived with laughable ease, by a man no less — curves his hand under Jaebeom's chin, cupping and tilting it up. Uses his other to unscrew the water bottle she had been about to drink before Jackson arrived and locked the door behind him. 

"Drink," he orders, bringing the plastic mouth to her dry lips — they part almost immediately — tilting it just so a steady stream of liquid trickles past her tongue, into her parched throat and pools in her stomach. It's lukewarm but it tastes like heaven to the desert that had popped up in her throat.

Jackson pulls the bottle away. "Better?"

Jaebeom nods. A drop of water hangs precariously off her bottom lip for a second before falling down, splashing onto her chest, rolling forward and disappearing between the valley of her breasts. Jaebeom shivers, the wetness reminding her of the wetness between her thighs and the reason she'd summoned Jackson here in the first place.

She leans forward and Jackson's hand leaves her chin. The loss is noticeable but it's secondary to her objective, what she wants right now. Her fingers, which had been hooked into the belt loops as she'd been drinking, unhooked and unbuckled Jackson's corduroy trousers, pulling the belt out with a steady ease that belied her impatience. Undoes the button, debates undoing the zipper with her teeth before discarding the thought on account of time constraint and how tired she felt, the zipper teeth parting to reveal Jackson's underwear.

It's those Calvin Klein black briefs, the ones Youngjae had gotten Jackson as a _'please stop stealing my good underwear'_ gift. Suffice it to say, it didn't work.

To be honest they steal each other's clothes all the time, but underwear is a little different, more intimate by general standards. Still doesn’t stop them though. Bambi, despite calling Jinyoung’s grandma panties a sight for sore eyes, still filches some when she gets the chance. Mark still hasn’t returned Jaebeom’s Bart Simpson boxers. As a leader, she still feels the need to say something. Tugging down Jackson's pants and underwear a little so she can pull his cock — steadily getting interested in the current proceedings — out.

"You need to stop stealing Youngjae's underwear," she murmurs, circling her fingers around the base of it, admiring the length, the girth, tracing a thumb over the head and then the vein running alongside it, appreciative of how nice it smelled. Thankful that Jackson was amongst those who were particular about genital hygiene. Not that a little sweat and musk would have stopped her.

One of Jackson's hands ends up in her hair. She can't imagine it's nice to touch, with the chemical products making it sticky but Jackson still massages her scalp gently as Jaebeom blows slightly on the tip of his cock before taking it in.

"I would but it's too much fun to stop," he answers, the casual tone turning into a breathy inhale as Jaebeom swallowed him down, one languid inch at a time, taking in the taste, the texture, the weight of his cock in her mouth and on her tongue. “We’re roughly the same size.”

Jaebeom silently agrees. She sucks on it for a little bit, moving her head up and down to get it properly hard. Pulling her mouth back until the tip was the only thing in, swirling her tongue over it and sucking it like it were a lollipop. Jackson's hand leaves her hair to brace himself against the wall — the one Jaebeom had been sitting against — taking deep, measured breaths.

Right, the wall. Jaebeom grabs the base of his cock before pulling away, tipping her head up to lock eyes with Jackson, who's looking down at her, a slightly flushed look to his face, eyes bright and curious. Jaebeom leans back until her head meets the wall, crown resting on the hard surface. She bends her knees, bracing her feet on the floor. She'd changed out of the outfit and into her spare, out of consideration for the stylist. Her nipples rubbed against the sheer material of her old ratty shirt, the crotch of her dark grey sweats sticking to her damp cunt.

Maintaining eye contact, she pulled Jackson's hips to her. Jackson's other hand is up his shirt, playing with his nipple. Jaebeom wants to tease those too, knowing that even if they aren't as sensitive as Jinyoung's, he enjoys the wet suction and the teasing bites Jaebeom often leaves on them. Jinyoung's breasts would be more fun to play with if they weren't sensitive to the point of hurting if stimulated past a certain point. She pulls until his cock is at her mouth again — her greedy whore mouth, as Jinyoung calls it — and waits.

It doesn't take Jackson long to get what she's hinting at. Jaebeom, out of obligation as a leader — was recalcitrant when it came to voicing her own desires, sexual or otherwise. More often than not, they would have to be dragged out of her by force (Mark, Youngjae and Jinyoung) or coaxed out gently (Yugyeom and Bambi). 

With Jackson it was always a mix of the two because he was her favourite. Not that Jaebeom would ever admit it where someone could hear her. She was a leader and she wouldn't play favourites on principle. 

Even if her body and heart said otherwise.

Jackson removes his hand from his shirt, bracing both hands on the wall to give Jaebeom what she wants. Feed her his cock until her head is pressed back against the wall so that she's trapped between a rock and a hard place with nowhere to go. Normally Jackson would push it all the way inside in one smooth motion because like Yugyeom and Mark, Jaebeom didn't have a gag reflex. He could go as hard as he wanted without worrying about making her gag. But they were at work and Jaebeom still needed her voice for the next round of schedules. 

"Later," he promises her, gasping it out as he sets a steady rhythm, thrusting shallowly in and out of her welcoming mouth. Upon Jaebeom's resulting whine, he pushes in all the way, feeling her delicate little nose press against his pubic bone, before pulling back and resuming the rhythm. It doesn't put a strain on his back, this position. He doesn't have to bend to get the right angle because sitting down Jaebeom is at the right angle for this. It's a pity he can't touch her body like this, can't tease those nipples or squeeze those places where the fat bulges out. Jaebeom moans, and he sees her hand snake inside her sweats, playing with her clit. And because Jaebeom is a greedy baby, her other hand joins the first. He imagines those fingers pumping in and out of her sopping wet pussy, the forefinger and middle rubbing her clit in tight little circles.

Jaebeom braces her feet against the floor to get a better angle at fingering herself, eyes screwed shut. Her mouth stretches around the girth of his cock prettily, the slight sheen of perspiration making her hair stick to her forehead, giving her skin a glowing sheen, lit up by the dressing room lighting. Her nose stud twinkles. The remnants of the red tint on her spit slick lips adds to the whole thing, making Jackson's dick throb and spurt a little in her mouth.

Between the pressing time constraint, the built-up frustration from not doing anything sexual since the comeback began and Jaebeom's penchant for being used as a cocksleeve, it doesn't take long for Jackson to cum. He grits out a warning — gives Jaebeom a chance to pull off. She doesn't. Jackson cums in her mouth with a bitten down groan.

His heart thumps loudly in his chest, echoes in his ears. Sweat slides down the sides of his face. His shirt sticks to his back. On shaky legs, he pulls out. Jaebeom's mouth is open and lax, eyes closed as she tries to regulate her breathing. Her hands have stopped moving. One of them is still inside her sweats. The other hand, lying uselessly by her side, glistens with slick. 

Jackson tips her head up again. "You cum?"

Jaebeom nods, swallowing a gulp of air, licking at her lips. Drool glistens at the sides of her mouth, on her chin. She pulls her hand out, spreads her legs to show Jackson the damp patch between her legs. A damp patch he'd have squeezed and nuzzled if they'd been at home. 

"You thirsty?"

Jaebeom, voice fucked out, post-coital bliss buzzing through her veins, in a rare moment of candidness that often followed an orgasm, says. "Always."

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> feeding ducks too much bread is bad, but the same cannot be said for writers because a) carbs good 🤤 b) we thrive on validation


End file.
